


in turn

by pugglemuggle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Autumn, Budding Love, Character Study, F/F, Gen, Personal Growth, ambiguous metaphors, change, originally published in a zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-29 19:42:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15080321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pugglemuggle/pseuds/pugglemuggle
Summary: Kiyoko is good at keeping her distance. Yachi is not. Perhaps it's time for a change.





	in turn

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the [Haikyuu Manager Zine](http://hqmanagerzine.tumblr.com). I was assigned Kiyoko and Autumn. 
> 
> This piece was also a winner of the 2017 Kumoricon Fanfiction Contest. (which meant i won me a nice Free! t-shirt and wallet from the prize booth. noice!! thank u kumoricon)

Kiyoko wakes to the buzz of her phone on her desk.

It’s early morning, just a few minutes before her alarm is scheduled to go off. The air in her bedroom is cold enough to make her pause before sitting up. She slides out from under her blankets and lets the chill of early morning sweep over her skin, then swings her bare feet over the side of the bed. The floor is like ice.

Carefully, she pads over to her desk and picks up her phone, the plastic cold against her palm. A new message, from Yachi.  _ Hi! Just checking that we’re still walking to school together today! Sorry to bother you! _

Kiyoko looks across the room, towards the window facing the street. It’s cold in her bedroom, but it’s colder past the glass, she knows. Through the window panes she can see the leaves of the birch tree just beginning to turn, light yellow encroaching on green like embers singing tinder. Even through the walls of her house she can hear the muffled, distant whispers of the leaves shivering on their branches as the wind buffets the tree towards the window. When the wind blows hard, the branches just manage to reach forward far enough to peck the glass playfully, as though daring her to open up.

She waits to reply to Yachi’s message until she’s dressed—white blouse, black blazer, red necktie, charcoal skirt. She pulls on her tights, too, even though it’s been years since she’s needed them to cover the bruises from track. It’s an extra layer; one more boundary between her and the cold.

Kiyoko picks up her phone again.  _ Yes, we’re still meeting, _ she types. She glances one more time at the shuddering leaves, and adds,  _ Don’t forget an extra jacket. It’s chilly today. _

—

It’s late in the afternoon and Kiyoko is staying behind with Yachi to clean up the gym after practice. She can hear the faint rush of the autumn wind outside through the gym vents, and the sound of her sneakers against the gym floor, but otherwise it’s quiet. Yachi is collecting stray volleyballs from around the gym, and Kiyoko is taking care of the mats, since they’re too heavy for Yachi. Kiyoko doesn’t want her to strain herself.

They’re almost finished when the door bursts open, slamming the back of the gym wall loud enough to make Yachi jump and yelp. A gust of chilly autumn wind floods into the gym and sweeps in a flurry of leaves from outside—orange-yellow oak leaves, already so different from the way they were just a week ago.

In the doorway is Hinata, grinning nervously. “Ki—um, Shimizu-senpai!” Hinata calls. Then he spots Yachi over Kiyoko’s shoulder, and the timidness vanishes. “And Yachi-san!

Kiyoko opens her mouth to chide Hinata, but Yachi speaks first. “Hinata,” she manages. Her face is flushed, the same way it always is when the boys on the team talk to her. Kiyoko thinks she should intervene, step forward and let Yachi slip behind her. She doesn’t get the chance. Before she can act Yachi is trotting over to Hinata like it’s easy, like she hadn’t been terrified to speak to him only a few months ago.

It catches Kiyoko off guard.

_ Don’t take your walls down, _ she wants to say as she watches them chatter.  _ Don’t let them see you. You’re too soft.  _ But she doesn’t say it. Instead, she watches from across the gym. Yachi stutters, Hinata smiles, and Kiyoko stacks the mats.

—

The air is crisp enough to burn Kiyoko’s nose when she first breathes it in, even though the sun is still stretching overhead. It’s late autumn, and she and Yachi are at an outdoor market to get food for team dinner. The street is busy and loud. She has to grip Yachi’s wrist not to lose her in the crowd. Kiyoko prefers indoor markets, but Yachi had been so excited, and Kiyoko couldn’t say no.

Red maple leaves slick the street under their feet as they drift from vendor to vendor, the fresh autumn produce stacked in boxes under brightly colored awnings. They have a list—eggs, leeks, pork, beef, turnips. Kiyoko carries the bag in the crook of her arm as Yachi leads them carefully through the market. She can still see the way Yachi shrinks slightly at every bumped shoulder, every brush of a body against hers when she weaves through the crowd, but she hasn’t stopped yet.

For the most part, they are quiet. The only times they’ve spoken have been to the vendors when they’re making purchases, and Kiyoko makes sure to do the talking.  _ Yes, please, thank you, goodbye. _ In their silence, Kiyoko’s fingers encircling Yachi’s wrist are all that bridges the space between them. Yachi’s skin is warm, even in the cold.

They’re buying several bags of carrots when the vendor asks them, “Cooking for a crowd, hm?” Kiyoko is about to respond with a short, simple, “We are,” when her companion speaks up.

“Yes!” Yachi says. Her eyes are bright, but her words are clear, and her small smile is unmistakable. “We’re managers for Karasuno’s volleyball team. We’re um, we’re making them dinner tonight.”

“Karasuno Volleyball? Didn’t your boys just win a tournament?”

“They did! They’re, um, headed to nationals,” Yachi says.

The man hands Yachi the bags of carrots, then reaches behind him to grab a small sack of apples. “Have these on me, if you want them. I’m happy to support the team.”

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

They pay and move on, but the image of Yachi’s smile still lingers in Kiyoko’s mind.

—

Kiyoko waits near the gym one morning in early December. Yachi is supposed to meet her soon. She tucks her arms close to her chest to keep out the cold and pulls her scarf up past her chin, but when she exhales her breath fogs her glasses like steam on a mirror. She pulls the scarf back down again. She should have worn warmer clothes.

“Shimizu-senpai!”

Kiyoko turns, and Yachi is here, smiling up at her and holding two cups of hot tea. She hands one to Kiyoko. “You like black tea, right?”

“I do....” Kiyoko accepts the tea, feeling the heat from the cup seep into her fingers. “Thank you, Hitoka-chan.”

They begin walking the rest of the way to the gym. The cherry trees are almost bare now, their brown leaves covering the grass near the gym entrance. Underneath it all, they’re just like any other tree, Kiyoko thinks. They stand proud for the world to see, no matter the season.

“I’m glad you smile more now, Shimizu-senpai.”

The words give her pause. “What?”

“You used to be very, um, closed off?” Yachi says. “But you seem to be happier now. I think? I’m sorry.”

Kiyoko quickly waves away the apology. She’s Yachi’s elder. It’s been her duty to protect Yachi, to help her grow, and perhaps she’s failed if Yachi is the one looking after her instead. But.... No, that’s not right. All teachers learn from their pupils, and Kiyoko will not be an exception.

She has been trying to teach Yachi to harden her armor, to build up her walls, but instead Yachi has been helping Kiyoko break down her own, plate by plate, brick by brick. The wind shifts. Kiyoko’s cheeks are cold and her hands are warm and Yachi has seen a part of her that Kiyoko never meant to share—but Yachi is right. Kiyoko is happier.

“Thank you, Hitoka-chan,” Kiyoko says. Her lips quirk, and she lets them.

Perhaps it’s time for change.


End file.
